


untitled. forest.

by burusume



Series: Ballads [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burusume/pseuds/burusume
Summary: “The fairy will help me. I’m sure that she will.”





	untitled. forest.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this as a part of my submission for a contest of classical poetry...it kinda turned out as a semi-ballad, but nevermind that. The prompt I chose was "Great Figures" but instead of choosing a historical or political personality, I opted for using Ileana Cosânzeana, a fairy which appears in Romanian fairytales and myths because of her impact over Romanians' mentalities. In here, the maiden is supposedly nyo!ro, if we were to take it as a fandom fic.

1.“The fairy will help me. I’m sure that she will.”

The maiden reassured her own trembling heart;

She heads for the forest, harness tight in her hands,

A kiss you could give them, and they wouldn’t crack.

Forged steel is her body, sharp diamonds her eyes

But her mind is made out of stories with lies;

What fairies, what princes, what benevolent spirits?!

Your father is the only thing you need to bring back.

 

2.The wind rushes well past behind you

Oh, how beautifully it twirls around your mane—

Don’t hope for it to get tangled, young maiden!

Especially in a tree’s crown of veins…

Don’t blow it larger than it is

Of you saving your father:

You’re dreaming of being a man, an one of a kind?

Don’t leave your mind wander any farther!

 

3\. Some buzzing. A cricket. A tree branch falling.

Who could it be? The forest itself?

“It’s her,” the maiden is on the brink of crying,

Desperately she searches, eyes glimmering in joy

But the forest is now still, and devoid of emotion

For the girl, and the woman she needs.

A shining beam flashes next to the horse

It’s really Ileana, the phantom of her dreams!

 

4\. Run, maiden! Follow her!

“Ileana, is that you? Stop now, let’s get talking!”

“What are you saying? I have no business with you.”

The maiden’s heart stops, shocked.

Who is this person? The Ileana she knows

Is kind, yet ferocious, no words from her mouth

Could ever detail a lie, for they are like bows:

Faith they might have, but trickery, never!

 

5\. Now always remember, young maidens everywhere,

And lads and children too, for that matter,

To have trust in yourself rather than just in a figure

Of polished wood, painted with red.

The heroes and fairies and demons

We are just tuning mirrors as strings around them;

For who we imagine them as being

We could’ve always been as that just ourselves.


End file.
